


Sportaskirt

by Kittenfightclub



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Crossdressing, Genderqueer, M/M, Sportacus wears a skirt and crop top, elven customs, everyone is generally accepting??, its v sweet and v pure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9097090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenfightclub/pseuds/Kittenfightclub
Summary: But, what almost serves to motivate Sportacus each day almost as much as eating breakfast does, is getting dressed! Most days, sure, he wears just the traditional blue tracksuit. On some days though, he wears the scarce other outfits he owns.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is a new depth for me??  
> I wrote the entire thing on an 8 hour plane ride tho, so kudos to me for that ;)

Sportacus woke up early each day and ate breakfast, an apple and maybe drank a glass of orange juice if he was feelings particularly tired and in need a boost! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day because it gives you that boost of energy right from the start, and energy is certainly an important thing for one intending to run about backflipping and somersaulting to save numerous townsfolk each day.

But, what almost serves to motivate Sportacus each day almost as much as eating breakfast does, is getting dressed! Most days, sure, he wears just the traditional blue tracksuit. On some days though, he wears the scarce other outfits he owns.

A pair of short shorts, which, since Sportacus is a shorty, appeared the correct size until they were taken home and washed, were saved for travel days in which he found himself confined to his ship and unable to prance around as he pleased. He would do sit ups on the floor and bicycle run, and lift weights, and when he was done he felt better and drank water until he no longer panted in breath. He indulged himself after with a small cup of chamomile, for it was surely nearing eight o’clock, and was able to comfortably position himself on the bed with a book. The shorts hiked up scandalously, but why not?

He owned a winter sweater at Stephanie’s insistence. She said that he looked as though he were freezing in his regular short sleeved attire; the pants were alright, but she insisted that he invest in a bulky sweater. It hung down a little past his waist, since, to get the arms to accommodate his muscle, he had to buy a size larger than usual. Despite the ill-nature of the fit, when asked, even Robbie Rotten had admitted that he looked adorable.

  
He also owned a small collection of ribbons, which he would tie in his hair for family gatherings. He brushed each small hair from his eyes and tucked them behind his long ears (which were finally able to breathe and were put in full display for the occasion in all they're freckled glory). Sportacus would gently and loosely braid his hair with the silk ribbons to keep it from his face and to fit in with his siblings, for ribbons were a popular style in the elven city, especially on younger men.

  
One of the last special pieces held within the blimp (even though he also owned many gold adornments, just simply neglected to bring them with him in his travels. They stayed safe at home with his mother, hardly ever worn, since Sportacus hardly ever visited) was a small shirt, tight around the chest, that was closer now to a crop top than a tshirt. Surely that too, like the shorts, had not been that way when he bought it, but he truly enjoyed the look of it and thus saw no reason to purchase another. There was also a light blue skirt that he kept almost always by it. Even though sometimes he did enjoy wearing the crop top without the skirt, or the skirt without the crop top, he most commonly wore them together, so it was convenient to keep them together.

  
On this particular day, Sportacus took one look at the bright blue sky, dotted with perfect little cartoon-like clouds, took a bite of an apple, and rummaged through the closet for the pair. Skirt and crop top in hand, he finished the apple and quickly changed into them. With a little twirl and a shout he stood in front of the mirror, toothbrush in hand.

  
He spit out the toothpaste in the sink and smiled at his reflection. Today would be a good day (everyday started this way)!  
He made sure to click his crystal into place, situated on his chest just like usual, before heading out.

  
-

  
“Hey Sportacus!” Exclaimed Stephanie, maybe a little too cheerfully, but it was her trademark to be just a little too peppy and a little too happy and a little too… dance-y.

  
“Hello Stephanie!” Sportacus replied as he stopped somersaulting to land right in front of the little girl. “It’s a nice day today!”

  
“Uh huh,” Stephanie stopped short, a small blush and confused expression seeping into her face when she looked down and noticed the skirt.   
“Um… Sportacus-”

  
“What’s with the skirt?” Shouted Trixie, seeming to materialize right behind Stephanie (the two were always together; Trixie followed Stephanie along like a little dog and Stephanie did the same).

  
“Trixie!!” Stephanie turned around quickly, obviously surprised, but absolutely delighted, by her appearance on the scene.

  
“Oh,” Sportacus, not noticing the deprecating (but changeable, these things are always changeable) edge to her voice, replied: “well it's such a nice day out I figured I'd wear something other than pants, see?”   
The elf did a split to emphasis this point, and the skirt rode up a few inches past his knees.

  
“Oh gosh,” he stood up and tugged it back down, “i'm sorry,” he laughed. The girls laughed with him and, when Pixel showed up only moments later and suggested they play Frisbee, the concern was forgotten in favor of fun to be had.

  
-

  
Robbie Rotten, ‘notorious villain if Lazytown’, hid in the bushes nearby, probably thinking of someway to stop the playing, for the shouting and shrieking of children would surely be the death of him. He wasn't wearing any disguise since he didn't even have a evil, or rather, slightly inconvenient albeit inevitably easy to overcome, scheme.

  
Despite it still being quite early in the morning, Robbie was not rested like the other children and Sportacus. He had unattractive deep purple bags beneath his eyes and a scowl.

  
He thought about how _perfectly tan and toned_ Sportacus’s thighs were when the skirt hiked up and furrowed his eyebrows. A quiet, contented groan escaped his lips until he remembered that he had not been there to admire the hero’s muscle, but to put an end to all the noise and huffed.

  
“Ugh,” he sighed, “Sportacus again! It's always Sportacus!” He couldn't see much from his current vantage point, only the head and shoulders of said hero (even though he remembered the cut and color and contrast of the skirt against soft thigh perfectly), and the bright pink of Stephanie's hair over the patch of brush, but it was surely enough.

  
_Besides, he didn't even have to see Sportacus to know that it was the elf who would be responsible for the loss of peace and sleep that had become the bane of Robbie’s life._   
_All the kids knew him as the depressed deeply unhappy, selfish, freakishly tall, rotten old man who was responsible for ruining, or attempting to ruin, all of their fun. He hasn't been known as that before; that too, Robbie knew, was Sportacus’s fault._

  
Sportacus noticed the half-fae’s appearance on the scene, he couldn't be oblivious to the sharp change of energy due to the proximity of a magical being, but did nothing. He smiled and continued to play. Robbie hadn't tried anything, and who was Sportacus to assume that he would! Maybe the man had finally changed, and wished to join in the game!

  
Frisbee wasn't as active of a game as Sportacus preferred, most of the kids were talented enough at throwing that the Frisbee always ended up near him, but it was fun enough. He tried to throw it just out of the kids reach though, to make sure they got the exercise that they needed.

  
After a while the game got boring, the kids excited chatter didn't seem to include him at all, and Sportacus’s mind began to wander. He still caught every throw aimed at him. He thought of all sorts of things: what he would do later that day, what he would do the next day, what game they would play then, but eventually his mind wandered back to Robbie Rotten, who, he learned from a quick glance, was still hiding in the bushes.

  
The things he thought about Robbie, Sportacus didn't feel comfortable talking about. Hugs and kisses _and kisses, passionate kisses; he wanted the fae to rub at his ears and kiss him until he gasped for breath_ , were not thoughts that Sportacus found himself slipping into often. Most of the time they only happened at night, when stress or responsibility had kept him up much past 8:08, and he would think of kissing Robbie. He only ever thought of Robbie in these situations, he realized, and didn't notice that he was grinning until-

  
“Sportacus!” He heard a shout and turned to find the Frisbee veering far off to the left. Stephanie laughed, and held onto Trixie for support. She was also giggling unabashedly. Pixel looked down at the ground and muttered sorry, later Sportacus would pat him on the back and explain that it was no one's fault and he needed the little run, but then was the time for action.

  
“I got it!” the elf shouted, already running after the Frisbee. It didn't take long, after a few flips it was in his grasp and he landed softly with a grin. He had needed the exercise; it felt nice with the blood pumping that much faster through his veins.

  
-

  
Robbie Rotten sat in the bushes, a blush spreading across his cheeks that was impossible to hide against his pale complexion. He replayed the scene in his head until it started to feel like a fever dream.   
_He's wearing a skirt, he's wearing a skirt, he's wearing a skirt_ , Robbie’s mind repeated until the half-fae caught another glimpse that did nothing to assuage his grievance, only assure him of that it was not, in fact, a dream like he had assumed the first and second time he had seen.   
.   
“I guess it makes sense then,” he muttered, hands balling into fists after he wiped the sweat from his palms. “It makes sense? But no, no, no, yes?”-

  
“Are you alright Robbie?” Sportacus exclaimed with a grin as he passed by on his way back to where the kids were playing.

  
“Uh, huh,” he coughed, flushing more, and Robbie scowled, “none of your business Skirtacus!”

  
Sportacus laughed, (and was that a pale blush creeping across those model features?) and went on his way.

  
-

  
“I mean yeah, I guess it does make sense,” Robbie began to murmur again once he had looked around one, two, three times to make sure he was alone. “I mean, girls wear panties with skirts… why not Sporty?”


End file.
